Christmas on 4th Street. Susan Mallery
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put his coat away. When he returned to the main part of the store, she wanted to say more, but several customers chose that moment to step in from the cold.
A little after noon Ana Raquel Hopkins breezed in with a basket of sandwiches. Ana Raquel, a young and talented chef, had run a food trailer all summer. She’d fed locals and tourists alike out by the park. The changing weather and an unfortunate accident—a car backed into her trailer—had ended her seasonal business prematurely. Now she worked up at the Café with her fiancé and did a sandwich delivery to the local businesses in town.
“So, you’re new,” the petite blonde said as she walked over to Gabriel.
Noelle held in her humor as she watched him deal with the larger-than-life personality that was Ana Raquel.
“Yes,” he said slowly.
“But you look familiar.” She snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. You’re that old guy’s brother. The one on the radio. Gideon.”
“We’re twins,” Gabriel said drily.
“I’m one, too.” Ana Raquel apparently missed the point of his tone as she studied his face. “Not identical, right? Because you don’t look alike. Fayrene and I are identical. Less now than when we were little.”
“Because you’re so big now?”
She grinned. “You’re upset because I said you were old. I’m sure your wife thinks you’re totally hot.”
“I’m not married.”
“Huh. Not ever?”
Gabriel drew a deep breath. “No.”
“Wow. You’re brave. Because seriously, you’re reaching the age when people start to ask questions if you’ve never been married. Like is there something wrong with you.” She paused expectantly.
Noelle stayed by the counter, where she could keep an eye on customers while watching the show.
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” Gabriel said, his teeth clenched.
Ana Raquel tilted her head. Her long ponytail slipped across one shoulder. “If you say so,” she murmured, her voice making it clear she wasn’t convinced. She turned back to Noelle and handed over two bagged lunches. “Be careful with that one,” she said in a loud whisper. “I think he might not be right in the head.”
Noelle nodded solemnly. “Thanks for the warning.”
Ana Raquel left.
Noelle did her best not to burst into laughter as she passed over one of the bags. “I forgot to mention I provide lunch, or she does.”
Gabriel stared at the bag. “She cooks?”
“Yes, and incredibly well. She and her fiancé wrote a cookbook. A Fool’s Gold Cookbook. You can buy it anywhere in town.” She pointed to the small display in front of the cash register.
He walked over and picked up the book. “This is her?”
She waved the sack lunch. “Trust me, you’ll love it. Their sandwiches are always so interesting. And there’s yummy salad.”
“Not just any salad? Yummy salad?”
“I accept that you have to mock me to regain your sense of power because she called you old.”
“She called my brother old,” he clarified.
“You’re the same age.”
“Not the point.” He took one of the lunches. “You’re sure she’s able to do this without adult supervision?”
“Very funny. You’re going to love it.” She paused. “By the way, your mother also worries that you’re too old to never have been married.”
He groaned. “Please be kidding.”
“Sorry, no. By the way, she also asked me to join your family for Thanksgiving.”
He stared at her intently. “Please tell me you said yes.”
“I said yes.”
“You’ll come early?”
“You’re that worried about spending a day with the family?”
“Holidays are brutal.”
She smiled. “Fine. I’ll come early. Go eat your lunch. Then you need to stock shelves.”
He picked up one of the bags. “We’re having a run on gourd nativities?”
“You’d be surprised.”
He started to leave, then turned back to her. His bandaged hand came up and lightly grazed her cheek. She felt the heat of his touch all the way down to her toes. The contact was as unexpected as her visceral reaction.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
“You’re welcome.”
She thought about mentioning he could thank her in other ways. Like kissing. Or walking around shirtless. But he just headed for the back room, apparently unaffected by their brief contact.
Just what every woman needed for the holidays, she thought dreamily. A man crush.
* * *
Thanksgiving morning Gabriel sat on his brother’s front steps, sipping coffee and ignoring the cold. His mother had insisted he show up for breakfast. The request had been unexpected and he hadn’t had time to figure out a lie. So he’d been stuck arriving at eight.
It hadn’t snowed for a couple of days, so the roads were clear. A good thing considering Noelle was driving up by herself. As he watched the driveway, waiting to see her arrive, he realized they hadn’t discussed a time. Early could mean a lot of things, especially considering dinner wasn’t until five that afternoon.
He continued to hold on to his mug of rapidly cooling coffee, pleased he could almost stand the pressure of the cup against his wound. He was healing. The searing pain was just a dull ache. The stitches pulled when he moved. Good signs. His work at the store hadn’t set him back at all. Not that he cared if it did—he liked what he did at The Christmas Attic.
He’d taken the job on an impulse. Keeping busy meant less time to think—something he appreciated. In his regular job there was too much thinking. Too much worrying. Once a crisis hit, there was only reacting, then later, second-guessing. Folding throws and making sure the teddy bears were in a straight line would get old in time, but for these few weeks, the job was exactly what he needed. A place to retreat.
When he had his flashbacks—the sound of an explosion somewhere out of sight—he was able to stay calm. He kept breathing and the urgent sense of having to go help, to save, bled away with the sound. He was left back in this time and went on with his day.
Now he turned toward the driveway, but no car appeared. Damn.
He wanted to see her, he realized. Not just for the way she would be a buffer between himself and his parents, but because she would make him laugh. She would poke fun at him and breeze in and out with a graceful sway of her narrow hips. She would be endlessly patient, as she often was at the store. She didn’t care that some old lady took nearly an hour to pick out two ornaments with a combined value of less than ten dollars. She wanted every customer to be happy, whatever it took.
Integrity, he thought, finishing his coffee. She had integrity. And long legs, he mused, thinking how good they would feel wrapped around him as he—
Gabriel slammed the door on that line of thinking. No, he told himself firmly. That wasn’t going to happen. For one thing, Noelle was sweet and soft and not the kind of woman who thought sex was a game. For another, there were no secrets in Fool’s Gold. He’d figured that out the first day. If he slept with her, everyone would know. Then he would be gone and she would be left with the consequences. He liked her so he didn’t want to hurt her.
He